


held, fragile like glass

by lilacswirls



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, So They Wrote This, enjoy, the writer is touch starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29173209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacswirls/pseuds/lilacswirls
Summary: His clothes were ripped. The knees of his jeans had split, and his leather jacket had had gashes in it from where the wire that bound him was pulled tight. Luckily, the jacket had been removed almost as soon as they’d set him on the bed.  Emma kept staring at him. The cut around his eye seemed concerning, swollen from where he had almost definitely been struck not too long ago. Emma didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t just focus and heal, like she was used to.A tiny little thing of Emma caring for Killian's wounds after an encounter. After the final battle/season 6.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	held, fragile like glass

A graveyard wasn’t exactly the most romantic of places, Emma thought to herself. 

But then again, patching up her boyfriend after he was captured by a witch and tied up to a headstone for some freaky ritual wasn’t on her list of fantasies either. To top it all off, the witch had somehow taken all of Emma’s magic and put it in a bottle, so fantasy solutions were also out of the question.

Emma, half-carrying Killian, met up with David and Snow on the street outside Granny’s, and David had immediately rushed to help support the injured pirate. They had returned to the loft and as soon as they’d opened the door, Killian’s knees buckled from under him. David took over from there, hauling him up the stairs and laying him on the bed. 

He was still there now, bloodied and bruised. Emma had been sitting next to him for what seemed like an eternity, watching him as he slept and occasionally placing her hand on his chest to make sure he was still breathing. She could hardly believe she had him back. That night, the one he had been taken, kept replaying in her mind. The weight of the sword in her hand still ghosted on her skin, a phantom of a feeling. It had been useless. She sighed. 

His clothes were ripped. The knees of his jeans had split, and his leather jacket had had gashes in it from where the wire that bound him was pulled tight. Luckily, the jacket had been removed almost as soon as they’d set him on the bed. Emma kept staring at him. The cut around his eye seemed concerning, swollen from where he had almost definitely been struck not too long ago. Emma didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t just focus and heal, like she was used to.

“Emma?” Snow’s light voice called from downstairs. Emma heard the old wood creak and groan as Snow climbed, and she shifted her weight on the bed in order to face her. Snow smiled at her, warm and comforting, and walked closer until she stood next to Emma’s shoulder. They both looked at Killian, slender and bruised in the middle of the bed. Snow stroked the top of Emma’s head, sparking a small, childish emotion of comfort in the pit of Emma’s chest. It had been years since she had been reunited with her mom, enough time so that this motherly gesture wasn’t new to her anymore, but still. Sometimes she could hardly believe it. 

“He’ll be alright,” Snow said, voice soft. “But you might want to clean him up a bit. The more everything dries, the harder it’s going to be later.”

Emma looked up at her. “How?” she asked, and she hated how scratchy her voice sounded, how it gave away all the tears she always kept hidden, how Snow could see right through her.

“I’ll show you. Let me grab some things,” Snow walked back downstairs, her footsteps echoing through the quiet apartment. Emma could hear the tones of David’s voice but couldn’t make out his words. There was Snow, responding to whatever he’d said. A few minutes passed. The door opened and closed. Finally, Emma heard Snow ascending the stairs again, slower this time. 

Snow crossed to Emma, a flat wooden tray held in her hands. Atop the tray was an assortment of first aid supplies, some Emma recognized, some she didn’t. Along with those, there was a pair of scissors, a mug full of slightly steaming water, and a small cloth. Emma looked up at Snow, expression full of confusion. 

“I’ll tell you what to do, then I’ll go back downstairs,” Snow said. She put her hand on the side of Emma’s face. “Come and get me if you need anything.” Emma nodded, that same childish emotion burning to the surface again. 

Snow’s explanations didn’t take much time. Within fifteen minutes, she had left the tray of supplies at the foot of the bed and walked away. Emma took a deep breath and clenched her fists to steady herself, then stood and picked up the scissors. Snow had been right, it had been enough time since Killian’s wounds stopped bleeding for the residual blood to dry and glue his clothes to his skin. Emma winced, praying that it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable to remove them.

She started at the hem of his shirt, cutting a diagonal line to his shoulder. The thin material of the shirt gave way easily, and the soft sound of the scissors closing and opening again floated through the room. Once she was finished, she folded the scraps of fabric back and stopped, shocked into stillness at the sight of the bruises that circled Killian’s chest and arms. She reached out and brushed the tips of her fingers against them, just barely touching his skin. She exhaled heavily, and continued working. 

Emma leaned towards the tray again, setting the scissors back down and picking up the cloth. She soaked it in the mug, the water having cooled to a more pleasant temperature. She took the now-damp cloth and turned back to Killian, only to find him looking back at her.

He tried to smile. “Swan.”

“Killian,” her voice was breathless. “You’re awake.”

“Aye,” he winced, glanced down at his chest, and raised his eyebrows. “You’ve ruined my shirt.”

Emma breathed a laugh, light and relieved. “I’ll get you a new one.”

“You better.”

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his forehead, avoiding the wounds. They both laughed, full of love and hope and every emotion that didn’t belong around such serious injuries. Pulling back, Emma swung one leg over Killian’s hips, leaning forward and putting her weight on the arm that she pressed into the bed to support herself. She took the cloth and gently pressed it on his face, letting the water soak into the dried blood and make it easier to remove. It had to hurt, but Killian didn’t let it show. Emma was so focused on her task that she didn’t notice Killian’s hand, shaking, slowly inch its way up to caress the side of her face. His fingers were cold, colder than they’d get when he spent the day on the sea. Emma blinked hard when they touched her skin, but, recovering quickly, she leaned further into the touch and tilted her head so that her lips pressed against his palm. She kissed his hand, so, so gently, watching his face as he let out the softest of gasps. The air was quiet, and felt like home.

Emma finished wiping the dried blood off of his face quickly after that, anxious to be finished with the first aid now that she knew he would be alright. Killian’s exhausted eyes never stopped tracking her movements, the cuts on his face significantly cleaner but still sore. Emma walked back to the tray, putting the cloth down. She picked up the last item that Snow had given her, a tiny jar of an herbal something-or-other that was supposed to make wounds heal faster. Emma opened it and set the lid next to the cloth. She walked back around the bed, sitting on the edge of it and leaning over Killian, her loose hair swept over one shoulder and tumbling down. She looked at him. Bruised, cut, battered. He was still so beautiful. 

She set the jar on the nightstand and ran her fingers through Killian’s hair, from the crown of his head down to where it met the pillow. He blinked once, slowly, an air of contentment rising off of him. Emma took her hand and held his face. The side of his mouth rose into half a smile, and she leaned down to kiss it. Their lips pressed together, full of love. 

Emma pulled back, reaching over and getting the jar from where it had been set. She took her ring finger and rubbed it in the smooth, waxy contents of the jar. It smelled faintly like the orange and yellow flowers that grew in a pot by the loft’s front door. Emma applied some to Killian’s face, focusing on the injuries near his eye and down his cheek. Once she’d finished, she put the jar back on the tray and picked the whole thing up, taking a few steps back in order to bend and kiss Killian’s forehead again.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered against his skin.

“I’ll be here.”

Emma walked the tray downstairs, nodding at Snow when she looked up from her spot on the couch with David. Snow smiled. 

“Everything went well?” Snow asked.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“The least I could do,” Snow gestured to the table. “That’s for both of you.”

Sitting on the table was a folded blanket, clearly old, but soft and blue. Emma recognized it immediately as the one she and Killian kept at the foot of their bed. She crossed the room and grabbed it, digging her fingers into the soft fabric. Raising it to her face, she inhaled, and it smelled like their house. 

Emma looked back at her parents. “When did you get this?”

“I told David that I wished there was more for us to do,” Snow replied. “You know, after you rescued Killian.”

“So we decided that since we didn’t make it to your house, we could bring part of it here,” David said. “I drove over and brought it back.”

“When?” Emma asked.

“After Snow came back downstairs.”

Emma spent a few more moments looking at her parents, then she gathered the blanket close to her chest. “Thank you,” she said, trying to convey just how much the action had meant to her.

Her parents smiled. “Of course.”

Emma walked back upstairs, listening to Snow and David pick up a conversation again, their voices filling the small apartment with a sense of deep comfort that Emma had learned to associate with only them. When she got to the top of the stairs, she saw that Killian had sat up and was now leaning against the headboard. She fixed him with an expression of mild concern, but dropped it when he gestured for her to come closer. 

Climbing into the bed next to him, Emma slipped under the blankets and maneuvered herself so she could press as close as possible. She threw the blue blanket over both of them, then waited as Killian pushed himself down to lay flat again. He looked at her, then stretched one arm out so she could rest her head on his shoulder. She did, and tucked her face into the junction of his neck and shoulder for good measure. They both sighed, warmth quickly blooming around their bodies and finally allowing their hearts to slow back down.

“Emma?”

“Yeah,” she replied, breath slightly tickling Killian’s skin.

“Do you ever wonder who we’d be if we hadn’t fallen in love?” 

“Hmm,” Emma brushed her hand over Killian’s chest, gentle around his bruises, and up to the side of his face. She felt the softness of his hair, and she curled a strand around her index finger. “Sometimes.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Why would it?”

Downstairs, they could hear the clink of dishes and the pop of the gas stove. Snow laughed at something David said, the bright happiness of the sound filling the apartment. Emma smiled, pressing her face closer to Killian.

Killian spoke, “I want to be the kind of person you deserve, love. And don’t make that face--” Emma’s eyebrows had drawn together in an expression of concern and confusion, indeed the face he had been referring to, but changed to amusement at his words. “--I know we’ve had this conversation, but it’s true. I went and got myself captured, and now you’ve had your powers stolen again, and how is any of that good?”

Emma shifted, rising up and propping herself on her elbow in order to look at Killian’s face as she spoke. “We’re married now, Killian. We have been for weeks. Do you regret that?”

“Of course not, love, I could never--”

“Then listen to me. We’re together because we want to be. That’s it. Both you and I have proven time and time again that we control our own destinies, we make our own choices. We’re not here because some all-powerful being prophesied it. And if I choose you, you’re everything I need you to be. You’re already ‘good enough’ for me, and I wouldn’t have you any other way,” Emma moved her hand from his hair and stroked one finger down the bridge of his nose, watching as the touch caused his eyes to close, then open again, full of emotion. “I love you. All of you. And we’ll figure this out together, okay?”

Killian’s eyes were soft. “Okay.”

Emma leaned down and kissed him, trying to throw all the adoration and caring and devotion she felt for him into one action. She wanted him to taste those emotions, to feel them, to hold them in his mind and know they would always be there. She pulled back, just a little, just enough for her to get a few words out.

“Just like we do everything else,” She whispered, eyes crinkling with affection.

“Aye, love. You’ve got me forever.”

“Just as you’ve got me.”

Emma slowly moved back to her previous spot, tucked into Killian’s side, and set her arm across his torso, holding him in place. She unfolded her fingers and pressed circles into Killian’s hip, content to simply exist with him. He was the same, turning to rest his chin on top of the crown of Emma’s head. 

Emma stayed awake until she could feel his breaths even out, making sure that he fell asleep and didn’t aggravate any of his injuries. Once he was out, she allowed herself to do the same. They slept, peaceful, undisturbed by nightmares. Their current situation had not gone away, the witch was still out there, but for now, the night was theirs. So they spent it with each other.

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wanted to write some soft captain swan. I also don't think the occasional encounter would cease after 06, so this is a little play off of that. Hopefully you enjoyed! I had fun writing it.


End file.
